Clearing the Air of a Horrifying Secret

[Claire Pierce]

Across the room from her, Sirius was still at first, mirroring her own motionless composure. Her grip was tight and her nails were digging into her arms; she could feel them through her sleeves. She thought that if she loosened up or moved that she might break apart, which she knew was irrational. But still, she felt she had to be tight and tense and frozen. If she wasn’t, maybe she would cross the room to him and put her arms around him and bury her face in his chest. Maybe she would move over to him and hit him to express her anger. She never reacted physically like that, but there was still a small urge to do it, because her emotions were so strong this time. Or maybe she would sink to the floor, head down, shaking.

For some reason, what came out of her mouth in between angry declarations was “Look at me, please.” She hated that “please.” She hated the whole thing. It sounded a touch softer and weaker and shakier, and she picked back up with her stronger, forceful tone. He insisted it wasn’t the same with this. “It’s all connected! I didn’t know you had a fucking limitation on risks or on working together,” she snapped back. “I didn’t know that you got to decide what I know about, especially when it comes to my own safety.” He started to pace while she spoke, and the still rational part of her mind – a small part, but there nonetheless, not completely overruled – thought about how he needed to stop. He didn’t need more time on his feet, more pressure on his knee, especially not when it was a pointless time to be moving like that –

Claire stopped herself from stepping over and making him sit down. She took a deep breath as he said, “Claire, these letters are more than a fucking game. These threats aren’t something to fuck around with. Claire, he’s been inside the Ministry – and recently.” Claire straightened even more, if that were possible. “Are you saying I want to fuck around with these threats? Everything I do is about taking all of this seriously.” She waved a hand around, breaking from her rigid posture. The house that was more secure than most places in the country, which protected them and allowed them to live there without being on edge. The school whose security she had revamped and developed and tightened until it was impenetrable. The work she did every day, the work she practically lived and breathed. She took it seriously.

To recover her composure and her control, she started talking more, like she always did. “There is no way that he would have known you had told me, unless he can hear everything we say, in which case we’re in a lot more fucking trouble than we thought.” She understood that he had been scared for her safety and for Juliette’s, but it wasn’t enough for her. This wasn’t the make or break threat on her life, after all. She had basically made a career out of being threatened, in danger, and somehow staying alive. She didn’t think of herself as invincible (unlike somebody else), but she knew this wasn’t a new development. It didn't excuse his lying, his decision that he got to decide. “Well, then he’s had even more opportunities to kill me, and to kill you. He would have taken that opportunity if he really could have. He wants me dead. That is not new. I would be dead if he had been able to follow through on his threats. He’s playing with you, Sirius, and I can’t believe you fell for it! You walked right into what he wanted – he wanted to make you scared,” she said, trying to keep herself from yelling.

“And I know what that’s like,” she added, her voice brittle. “He had my mother killed. He killed my nieces, my goddaughters. We have friends and family who have been hurt or killed because of him. Remember that you are not the only with a stake in this. All of this is a part of his god damn game, Sirius. It’s all a game. It’s all for fear, and for chaos, and he’s trying to push us apart, and trying to make you scared.” Us scared, she thought. And she was; god, she was scared. “Well, welcome to the fucking club.”

Claire thought about her nightmares, which woke her up in a cold sweat fairly frequently, even now that she had Sirius beside her at night. About the worries and fears and paranoia that followed her through every day, driving everything she did. She flinched slightly, despite her attempt at control, when an image from her nightmares came to mind. Sirius, bleeding, dead, gone. Yes, Sirius, she knew about fear, and she knew about being scared she was going to lose her better half.

“How can I trust you now? What else have you kept from me?” she asked, sounding more broken and betrayed than before, her voice rising in an unsuccessful effort to mask it. It lowered but did not come back together stronger when she rushed past it to say, “We work better together. I would have been able to help you with this for the past months, and I can help you now. I could and can help you evaluate if this is something more. We are better as a team, Sirius. Better at staying alive. Better at keeping other people alive. We can’t do anything, not well enough, not strongly enough, if we are not a team.”

He burst out, really burst out despite not yelling back at her, and he moved to stand up again. She was paying attention to what he said, but what she did first was to step over, her habits taking over, and nearly push him into sitting normally on the couch, her eyes moving from his upset face to the knee she was worried about. He didn’t resist, distracted and taken aback, and she said, her voice firm but just slightly noticeably softer, “Sit.” Her hand grazed one of his as she pulled back and took one step backwards. She didn’t want to sit with him on the couch; she didn’t want to loosen up or, on the other hand, curl up on the couch. Claire didn’t want to pull away and withdraw; she had to talk, she had to yell and somewhat attempt to control it, because if she packed this away she wouldn’t know what to do. This was how she - how both of them - dealt with these kinds of things. Claire didn't know how to be calm in these conversations, how to address her feelings in a productive and constructive manner. It was always worse when it was between the two of them, because it was always heightened and more intense. 

[James Sirius Potter]

With every word that came out of Claire’s mouth Sirius started to realize a little more just how big of a mistake it had been to keep this from her. Even though he had just wanted to ensure her safety and Juliette’s – it didn’t give him an excuse to keep it a secret this long. It had seemed like the right thing to do - but maybe he had already fallen into the trap with the very first letter?

“It’s all connected! I didn’t know you had a fucking limitation on risks or on working together,” she snapped back. “I didn’t know that you got to decide what I know about, especially when it comes to my own safety.”

Pacing around, frustrated and for once completely uncertain that he had made the right call for the second time in his life (the first being ignoring the first threat letter he ever got from Blackwell). Sirius mind was racing back and forth between thoughts of self-doubt and trying to come up with the words he was looking for – but for once they just weren’t there.

“Are you saying I want to fuck around with these threats? Everything I do is about taking all of this seriously.”

Again, poor choice of words on his part thanks to his complete lack of control on his thoughts or his words. He was feeling completely out of control right now – something that he absolutely hated and something he never let happen… Well, something he had sworn he wouldn’t let happen again. Yet here he was. Still lost for words, everything he could say defended his actions – which he knew were wrong, even though he had convinced himself that everything he had done was for the best.

Claire went on to make the point that if Blackwell could find out, he would have to be able to listen in on them – and if he could do that they were in more danger than they thought. The thought ran a shiver through him – it wasn’t a possibility he had ruled out yet. It was very much a fear in his mind, which was one more reason he had feared saying anything at all. Maybe it was all paranoia – induced by his own self-consciousness and fears from the past.

“Well, then he’s had even more opportunities to kill me, and to kill you. He would have taken that opportunity if he really could have. He wants me dead. That is not new. I would be dead if he had been able to follow through on his threats. He’s playing with you, Sirius, and I can’t believe you fell for it! You walked right into what he wanted – he wanted to make you scared,”

Those first words felt sharp – because she was right. It was crazy to think, but perhaps they were both right. Maybe this was more of a game than he had ever thought – and he had played right into it without ever noticing; unable to process the situation with rationality after the years of dwelling on everything that had happened. If it had been any other person this happened to, he would have told them to bring it to them – because together him and Claire could pretty much defeat anything…

Blackwell knew that – and by threatening the people closest to him, he had ensured the two of them would never get a chance to work the full picture together. That thought had never crossed his mind until Claire put it out there. Why had he not seen this? Was his judgement that clouded by fear and hate, that he was so easily deceived? The only thing he knew he had been right about, was that those threats were still very real – and they needed to be prepared for anything – but at least now they could work on it together…

She reminded him that she had lost people too, her mother was gone at the hands of the Nex – most likely ordered by Blackwell. His daughters had been her goddaughters and they had been very close – he wasn’t the only one who had been beaten down by this underground war. After all this, he still found it hard to find something to say. It was so unlike him to be this quiet – but for once he just didn’t have anything left to say.

“All of this is a part of his god damn game, Sirius. It’s all a game. It’s all for fear, and for chaos, and he’s trying to push us apart, and trying to make you scared.”

It was those words that really forced him to come to terms with it – while the threats were real, this had been more to fuck with his mind than he ever knew; and it had worked so much better than he wanted to admit. He had been losing his patience, his ability to think rationally and his ability to look at the entire situation objectively more and more over the last several months.

The second Juliette was brought into his life and he and Claire had finally admitted their feelings, these letters started showing up – and immediately his judgement was clouded with the fear of losing them too. He had been terrified from the start – not that all the letters he wrote back to Blackwell had shown that (or at least he hoped). For months his calm exterior had been a façade, inside his brain almost always falling back to these letters, practically haunting his thoughts day and night.

“How can I trust you now? What else have you kept from me?”

Those words hurt – he was leaning against the couch for support at this point, his incessant pacing finally coming to an end. Just as he was about to open his mouth to finally say something his opportunity to speak was gone. She went on to remind him how much better they work together. The fact that working alone was never going to get them the answers that they were looking for. He couldn’t stop Blackwell alone – it was something they absolutely had to do together or it would never work.

After moving to sit on the arm of the couch, face in his hands as he finally spoke – his few words only expressing and finally admitting that he knew he was in the wrong in this situation. It was hard for him to do, to say that – but it had come out surprisingly easily. Not used to being able to admit when he is wrong and not used to being in this situation with Claire, the hundreds of bad scenarios he had imagined since that morning – he was about to stand up and start pacing around mindlessly again – as long as he kept moving he could keep himself from losing it.

Claire wasn’t going to let that happen though – before he could even stand up all the way Claire had swiftly walked over and forced him to sit on the couch as she told him to sit, sounding more herself. He had been practically thinking about everything else that he hadn’t noticed the pain getting worse with each step – but clearly Claire had seen it or she wouldn’t have bothered; so he didn’t try to fight it, he sat down, the sharp pain finally seeping into his awareness.

Where were they supposed to go from here? What could he possibly say to repair this situation? A simple ‘I’m sorry’ just wasn’t going to cut it here. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and took a deep breath – hoping to collect himself even a little bit. “Where do you want me to start, Claire?” he asked. “With the threats I sent back? With the fact that I’m positive this letter and the unsigned one I got six years ago were both written by him? Or with the fact that you’re right – I was manipulated by my own fears?”

There just wasn’t a clear spot to start here. Just hiding one simple thing, the letters, had led to such a bigger web of things that branched off from there. The only things he hadn’t told her besides the letters was the fact that he had written back – but he just let that one out without even thinking about it – and the fact that he had met with two informants from the Nex when he was attacked that morning.

Now though, none of it needed to be a secret – it never should have been in the first place – but where were they supposed to start? How could he ever convince here there weren’t a hundred other things he hid from her? Without ever meaning to, he opened himself up to face another fear, one that had for years kept him from truly opening up to Claire and letting them become a couple – the fact that he knew eventually he would do something to screw that up.

[Claire Pierce]

Claire still wasn’t calm, and probably would not be calm for a while longer, but there was a part of her that was trying to calm down. She wanted desperately to go for a run and maybe run for hours, run from her problems and worries and this fight; but she would return home, and return to Sirius, and return to this. While he paced, she contemplated making coffee, her go to response to many things in her life, and again contemplated the alcohol in a slightly curious way. It settled her a little, strangely, to think of something that wasn’t an issue of trust and danger while he paced and she thought momentarily of his habits; hurting his knee, drinking too much. There was a part of her that was trying to breathe deeply and evenly, to stop gripping her arms way too tightly, to soften the hard lines of her face, to make her stop screaming in her head and yelling out loud.

Still, she felt like she might break apart and either withdraw deep within herself as she had not now for many months or completely lose it and scream something she would regret. Claire just did anger. It energized her, it drove her, it overtook her. And she handled it well, in that she used it effectively as a weapon, as a shield, as a tool. Sometimes that was a tool to hurt others, but sometimes – like now – it was much more about hiding how she was hurt. She hated that, and all of this, but she couldn’t help it. It was a gut instinct, as her eyes followed his pacing and studied the slow realization on his face, for her to be angry.

He wasn’t even replying to a lot of what she said, probably from a combination of knowing when not to talk when she was on a roll like this and her words hitting home, making him think. He hadn’t been thinking about this for a long time, not really, not even when he had thought he was. “I need you to think clearly about this. I know it’s hard,” she said. “Trust me, I know. But you need to think more clearly and logically and objectively.” Her voice had gone down in volume, and although it sounded more like her usual self, it was still very sharp. “I need you to. Juliette needs you to.”

Her stiff posture broke slightly; she began tapping her right hand fingers on her arm; her shoulders loosened slightly. She sighed, her first allowance of anything less than furious. “You’re not crazy for being worried. You’re crazy for not telling me,” she said, going for firm and maybe achieving it half-way; the other half was more hurt. He was crazy for not telling her in the logistical sense; it was their job, they were better together, and how could they solve the problem if he didn’t tell her? but he was also crazy – and upsetting, and worrying – for keeping something from her. They didn’t do that (right?).

After forcing him to sit, and leveling him with a sharp look to keep him there, she snapped and said, waving her arms, “Hey, Blackwell! I know! Come and kill me now, because I know you haven’t really been trying to do so for years!” Her tone may have passed by sarcasm and moved into harsh and mocking and bitter, but she ignored that. After this outburst, she felt herself become more intimidating again, straightening and pulling herself closer together again.

Finally, he spoke again after trying to collect himself. (She thought he failed.) Where did she want him to start? Her voice was tight but not as cold anymore when she said, after a long pause, “Tell me everything.” She met his eyes, hers determined and demanding. “From the very beginning. Tell me about the first time you got a letter. Tell me about your responses – all of them. Tell me about the stupid shit you were thinking. Tell me about whatever dangerous thing you did this morning.” Her look seemed to say, yes, I noticed that, and I have not forgotten that. She didn’t comment otherwise on the responses he had written; frankly, she wasn’t surprised in the slightest that he had written back. It was stupid, yes – it was a mistake, and misguided, and thoughtless, and he should know better (he did know better) – but she knew he had been too worried to care and be rational, and he had always been the impulsive one. Her voice was dangerous as she said, “Everything. While you’re at it, you had better tell me any other thing you have kept from me.”

What she didn’t say, because she felt like in saying it her voice would reveal how upset she was, was “Convince me. Convince me this is all you have ever lied about, and that this is over, and that I can trust you.” Still, of course, Sirius knew her too well; he would know.